Don't Look Back
by I am that Writer
Summary: She won't look at him. She knows what he'll look like if she does: his beautiful face will appear broken and confused and lost, because that's how he's feeling. If she looks back at him, she'll give in and stay behind. She'll abandon her quest, and she would never forgive herself if she did that. Thanks to Blondie B. Happy who read over this. Angsty Percabeth. One shot.


**So this is Annabeth's POV on her and Percy's time together in Rome and at the café before she had to leave him to go on her solo quest in _The Mark of Athena_. Courtesy to Blondie B. Happy, who read over this for me. I hope you… uh, I'm not sure enjoy is the right word. It's pretty angsty. Well, I hope you like it!**

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_**– Don't Look Back: A Percabeth One Shot –**_

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He holds her hand tightly, like it would kill him to let go, but not so tight that it cuts off her circulation.

They wind through the busy Roman streets, and Annabeth admires the beautiful architecture. She comments on it, glancing at Percy, but he doesn't seem to hear her. He's scanning the streets himself, and seems distracted with his thoughts. Most likely of the ever-advancing time when he will have to leave her.

Annabeth tries not to think about that, either, but Percy doesn't understand. She _has_ to do this. It's her quest. She hasn't had one since last year, her quest in the Labyrinth.

She tries not to think about her last quest, and that she would have failed it multiple times if not for Percy. He stuck with her to the very end. She would have been lost without him.

She gives his hand a tight squeeze, but slight enough so he doesn't notice. The air smells pleasantly like fresh baking and flowers. She notices Percy sniffing, too.

But she's older now, more mature and experienced. She _has_ to do this quest. Percy doesn't understand. He must understand, or he will never be able to leave her.

...

They find a nice café, quieter than the rest of the loud city. A waiter wearing a traditional black penguin suit takes their order. Percy is clueless, as usual, and orders a pizza and a coke. Annabeth smiles and explains to him. It's like old times.

Being with Percy again, after all those months of separation . . . it's like heaven. Annabeth can't put into words how he makes her feel—her chest welling up at the mere sight of him, her stomach fluttering when he smiles at her. He makes her whole again.

They talk about Annabeth's quest, and Annabeth tells Percy not to be hard on himself about Chrysaor.

He smiles at her. "How do you do that?" he asks. "You always know what I'm thinking."

"I know you," Annabeth answers simply, and she realizes it's true, that she and Percy have gone through so _much_ together, through hell and torture, battles, tears, and blood. But they've also had their happy moments, and those are the ones that Annabeth tries to focus on, though the bad memories always eventually seep in . . .

Their arms are stretched across the table, and just the ends of their fingers are linked together, but it's enough for Annabeth to just feel Percy's warm skin. She stares into his eyes, gorgeous as always, even brighter green in the sunlight than ever. He stares back at her, and they're both quiet.

Percy is about so say something to her, but the waiter comes back with Percy's pizza, and Annabeth's panini, which comes in a small oval bowl. The waiter comments on the view, and Annabeth turns her head to look over the caramel-colored waters of the river. She knows its filth is what makes it its color, but she somehow finds it beautiful. The trees and cream-colored stucco villas, with their red rood tiles, are a perfect contrast in the backdrop. The waiter is right. It is beautiful.

Annabeth faces Percy again to see him slowly chewing his pizza. Its bread is doughy and dry, and the cheese is stringy. He's looking at food almost mournfully, and Annabeth feels a stab of pain in her chest. This is because of her.

Still, her Seaweed Brain has always been cute eating, and it's fun to watch him gobble up the meat and get cheese stuck on his lip.

Annabeth pokes at her own sandwich, not really hungry, but she knows she should eat to keep up her strength. She eventually manages to consume half of it before addressing Percy again, not able to look at him. She tells him he has to trust her . . . that she'll be all right, and come back to him.

The day has warmed up since earlier, but Annabeth still shivers and rubs her arms. She sips her fizzy water and just enjoys the feeling of _being_ with Percy. Moments like these are precious to her. She wants to assure him about her quest even more—because when she assures him, it calms herself a little, and it will be worse for her if she dives head-first into a solo quest full of rattled nerves—when they're interrupted by a motor scooter.

Annabeth glances toward the riverfront at the bike bearing a driver and his partner—Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn, she thinks instantly.

There are bright smiles plastered on both their faces, but Annabeth can't help thinking that they're somehow evil-looking, like they've purposely come to take her away from Percy, and are enjoying it.

She looks back to Percy, feeling panicked. Their time to part is nearing.

...

The river god and his wife give Annabeth documents and usher her to get on their baby-blue scooter, but Annabeth isn't ready yet.

She looks at Percy, who is squeezing her hand too tightly, but Annabeth doesn't mind.

He jumps wildly to his feet and pleads to Tiberinus to let him go with her—just a little farther, but of course his request is declined.

Annabeth assures him again that she'll be all right. Of course she assures him—she can't leave him letting him think she's as scared and broken about this as he is.

He tries to argue, but then seems to decide there's nothing he can do about it, and it will be easier for her if he just lets her go. So he forces a smile and nods.

"Be safe," he says, like he's commanding it. But his words are soft and broken-sounding.

Annabeth looks into his eyes and knows he's not quite ready to let her go. Will never be.

So she kisses him, slow and soft, tries to let him know in that contact what he means to her. When she pulls back she hesitates, wanting to say something else, anything more to him to make him feel better. But her mind, for once, is blank. She has to literally tug her hand out of his, because she knows he won't be the one to let go, and it pains her so much tears spring to her eyes.

She slings her backpack over her shoulder and drops her head, not looking at him.

She won't look at him. She knows what he'll look like if she does: his beautiful face will appear broken and confused and lost, because that's how he's feeling. His mouth will probably be partly open, wanting to tell her to stay with him.

If she looks back at him, she'll give in and stay behind. She'll abandon her quest, and she would never forgive herself if she did that.

So she hops on the back of the scooter. There is barely enough room for her feet, and Annabeth has always thought her feet were small. She wraps her arms around Rhea Silvia's tiny waist, the silk fabric of the river god's wife's dress on her bare arms giving her a little comfort.

But she can practically _feel_ Percy still staring sadly into her back, and she feels miserable and cruel and cold to be leaving him like this.

But there's nothing she can do. She has to continue on with this.

So she doesn't look back, because she wouldn't be able to tear her gaze from his, wouldn't be able to keep herself from running back to him if she did, and that would ruin everything.

She won't look back.

...

Annabeth has rode miles with Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn on the scooter, now, but she still forces herself to look forward, keeps thoughts of her quest running through her head.

She hopes Percy will forgive her. She didn't look back.

_But I'll be with you soon,_ she silently promises him. She hopes that's true and she's not just lying to both herself and Percy through her teeth.


End file.
